The Two
by AngelT
Summary: It is 2010 and it is time for the One mentioned in the Prophecy to awake. Who is he? Someone who was concidered not to be walking amongst the living? Will The First From The Bloodline fulfill his lifetask? Mostly about Kurtis and Ian. Chapter 12 uploaded.
1. Purchases and Losses

**Erm... Well... I kinda took courage and finally desided to write a TR fanfiction. All my previous ones ended pretty fast. Without being finished. I do not know why. Maybe because I usually was trying to write about Lara as a main heroine. This time it will be Kurtis and... wait wait.. I do not reveal the secret yet. :P Anyway, I hope you will enjoy the story and I will try to keep writing it. All reviews are appreciated... Just because I always like to know what people think and it provides me with inspiration (smile) Cheers to everyone! **

_On the 10th year of the new millennia the One will awake. It will be up to Him to decide whose side to take. The Good or Evil, the choice will be fatal for Him and the world. Meant to be good, He will be too vulnerable and opened to the temptations of the darkness. The First from The Bloodline has to be in time. To open His eyes, to save Him. Or the world, and with it all humanity, will be doomed._

_The Book of Seven Lords 1203 AC_

**Purchases and Losses**

"Here are your papers!" She exclaimed angrily and threw the yellow folder on the table. Calmly, Kurtis reached out, took it and browsed through the sheets. Lara watched him, very carefully.

His stare of crystal – blue eyes seemed to go right through her heart as he slowly stood up and smashed the table with the fist.

"You do not dare to apply for that! You do not deserve Anthony, Lara! Did you spend at least half of the time with him as I did?! All you think about is raiding, raiding, raiding!"

He paused and took a breath for another round for abuse. How Trent hated those moments. But for a while now, their life mostly consisted of scandals and misunderstandings. Six years of hell for both of them. Sometimes Kurtis was asking himself,

" Why? How could it be different…"

If he died. Back in Prague. Just… died from the wound on the Arena and let himself and the Lux Veritatis rest in peace. Instead, not only did Trent survived, he got out of that goddamn building and fell on the road, just in front of the car that thirty minutes later delivered Kurtis to the hospital.

Later Lara found him there. Trent remembered, like through mist, he saw her face and felt her soft palm, stroking his forehead. He then heard a doctor saying that there was a chance to survive after such a fatal stab…

But yet he survived, spited on the chances from the high tower. After all those years Kurtis still wondered, how? People die from wounds much lighter then his…

The recovery was pretty fast; doctors thought it was a miracle. And Lara always was nearby. Every day he saw her face near him. Soon he started to miss Lara every second she was not at his side. As a logical solution, after Trent got released from the hospital, he made Lara a proposal. And she agreed.

Finally life seemed to settle down a bit. Kurtis found a job… Not that he needed it, but the whole Lux Veritatis business had worn him out and Trent wished for something normal, something ordinary. If somebody had said to him some fifteen years ago what awaits Kurtis in the future, he would laugh and call that person crazy.

A policeman! In his youth chased by the cops, day and night, for peace disturbance in every city he visited, Kurtis Trent became a peacekeeper himself. He felt that was important, it was needed. To the society and to his own mental stability.

Five years ago, Lara gave birth to a boy that she dearly wanted to name Anthony. Kurtis disagreed; he wanted to name the baby Konstantin, in the memory of his father.

He guessed it was the first time they got into a fight of some sort. And then it started. Finally free from responsibility of feeding the little baby, Lara wanted to pick up her hobby once again. Probably, her family 'treasures' were somewhat different from Kurtis'.

Trent remembered, only now remembered, how desperately his father tried to pay attention to his son and wife. How nice was mother with Kurtis, always near, always able to help. And how he, a ten year old boy, was crying when she died in the birth house. How he hated that little baby who died there too and took mother with him. Perhaps, to Heaven. It was a comforting thought.

Will Tony cry if his mother dies somewhere in Africa?

Kurtis always was escaping from himself, from his true feelings. But when he saw Tony and the little baby first curled his little fist round his father's finger… Family. That was what his soul was always longing for. A family like he once had and lost. And now…

"Wait till the court hears my words of what a good mother you are in real." Hissed Kurtis at a snake as he slowly moved towards Lara, forcing her into the corner of the room.

"Just a little bit more, Trent… Just a little bit more…" whispered the man and slowly put a finger on the trigger.


	2. The Moment

**Well, this one is longer and introduces a new character. Enjoy your reading. I will update after 1st or 2d. Depends when I will get home. Happy New year to everyone!! (smile) **

**The Moment**

It was a perfect place to watch. Enough space to lie down… And wait. Oh, waiting. He had plenty of temper. The victim always was his, there were no exceptions. As Kurtis Trent will not be the one.

All because of the case he was working on. A gruesome murder of two people in high ranks. Blood everywhere, shotgun did its job. Surely the police soon heard about it and surely they could not resist poking their long noses in the business that was not theirs.

Ian Grant was proud of his work. A professional hitman, he could be artistic but could also be brutal. Everything depended on how his Masters wanted to see it. He followed every word of theirs, every movement they made. It was meant to be like that for they were his only family.

Ian did not know his mother or father. He was always told his mother died in the hospital and the father even long before that. That was not questioned as Ian believed them without doubting. Masters could not lie. Why should they?

All his childhood passed in learning. Mostly all the teaching consisted about anatomy, psychology, philosophy. Too heavy for a young child. But he did not know better. There were no other youngsters near; Ian never knew such thing as 'play' or 'laugh'.

As his twelfth birthday came, teachings moved forward. Weaponry, the most sacred room of the complex he lived in, finally opened its doors. Ian was learned to master all kind of guns and melees, but his passion always were 9mm guns, a sniper rifle and a long katana…

A hard wind hit him in the face and Grant shook head, trying to concentrate. Twenty meters away, in the window he saw Kurtis Trent and his wife arguing about something. Those two were in the middle of a divorce and it could be suggested that the point of scandal was their five year old son. It was some what sad that the boy will loose the father at such young age. Ian ruined many families, left many children being orphans… But he always felt sympathy for those little ones, who were not guilty for the crimes of their parents, who did not deserve such fate. Yet… He continued doing his job.

Grey eyes attentively scanned the figure of the man behind the glass wall. Several possible hit points. Only two kill immediately. One in the heart, other in the neck, just in the one of vertebras. The pain will take only a second and then… Peace.

Black hair brushed his cheek as another blow of wind ran across the wall of the Croft Manor. Most of the henchmen that were in the service for the Masters had to have short hair in order not to disturb them during missions. Like the one Ian was fulfilling now. Yet once Grant decided to disobey and grew hair just that it would reach till his shoulders. Perhaps women would appreciate it. If he had a chance to encounter one somewhere beyond the missions. Being thirty years old and rather good-looking he had never slept with a female. Having a partner was forbidden as it would destroy the Balance and Ian could not just fall too low to visit a prostitute.

This celibacy some what frustrated Grant but it was the choice of his own.

Trent finally came to the point where Ian most wanted to see him and turned to the window. His face was glowing from anger and the stance showed that Kurtis Trent on purpose ignores his wife.

"Just stay still and I will make it quick…" whispered Ian and again put the finger on the trigger. Just like some while ago but then the policeman went to the inconvenient shooting angle.

The hitman was ready to shoot when this strange dizziness came back.

Last few weeks he had felt rather bad time after time, was seeing strange dreams, hearing voices. With a moan of pain he made himself little, trying to stop stabbing pain sitting somewhere deep inside. With trembling hands Ian grabbed rifle and looked through the sight. He could not wait any longer, it must be done now! Another pain stroke, Grant's irises started to get bigger and bigger until the darkness completely had filled the eye sockets. Ian produced a vague gasp and pulled the trigger down. The sound of the glass breaking, the scream…

Kurtis was standing in front of the window and did not pay any attention to what she said. That irritating habit of him she knew too well. Lara was on her way to the door when her ear caught the sound of breaking glass. In real it took just seconds, but for her it looked like minutes passed.

With a vague gasp Kurtis grabbed neck and stepped backwards. Lost balance and fell on the floor. With scream Lara ran to him and quickly examined the wound. Bullet was supposed to come right in his throat on the angle of 180 degrees but the last second Trent turned himself a bit, probably to see what was his wife doing and shot went through his neck, without touching any bones.

He was already unconscious and wound was bleeding steadily. With one hand Lara grabbed First Aid Kit, which she always kept near, knowing own and Kurtis lifestyle; with other she was dialing the Emergency Number.

"Kurtis… Hold one… Damn, hold on… I am phoning, phoning…"she was whispering, while stroking husband's forehead. Trent was breathing heavily and something was constant bubbling somewhere in his larynx.

Finally there was the voice of operator heard, saying the name of he hospital but there was no time to listen.

"I have a wounded person. In a neck. I need a reanimation car, now!"  
"I am sorry, Mrs…"

"Croft."  
"I am sorry Mrs. Croft. But all reanimation cars are already on the road. You have to bring the person by yourself."

"But… But…"she felt anger growing inside. How will she transport Kurtis?? Every bump on the road can be his last. She never trusted hospitals before, should have not trusted now.

Furiously Lara threw phone back on the base and stopped, pondering. Kurtis is too heavy for her; to drag him all across the hall and in the garage will be difficult… She needs… Field bed!

Firmly Lara pressed intercom and waited for Winston to pick up. As always it took a while.  
"Milady?" cackled little microphone.

"Kurtis is wounded, please come here and watch him, I need to find some equipment."  
"I am on my way." Lara caught a worry in the old man's voice. He loved Kurtis as a son; surely he would do everything to help.

Pain finally let him go. Ian stretched out and looked in the window. At first there was confusion, then anger, then fear. He missed! For the first time in his carrier, Grant missed. Before going to the mission, Ian learned everything about Kurtis Trent from the dossier his Master gave him. Officer Kurtis Trent was shot several times, twice the wound was more then serious. But strangely enough, his recovery in both cases went much faster then the doctors expected. After a week or so Trent was already as good as new and ready for action. Papers suggested Mr.Trent having several paranormal abilities but Ian had a feeling Masters were hiding something exactly from him and exactly about this particular victim.

He saw how Lara Croft drove out a large Jeep from the garage. So he indeed survived, goddamit! Probably now she will take him to a reanimation division of the hospital. He must not loose them, the work must be finished as soon as possible. Because if the Masters find out about his failure, the punishment will be terrible enough.

Little shivers ran down Ian's spine.  
Tortures.


	3. A Lesson

**Ok, this one again is a bit short, but I wanted to make it a separate chapter. Now... About the grammar. 1. I am not of English speaking and the mistakes I make appear just because my language is too different in grammar and sentence building. 2. I really do my best and if I post that means I cannot see anymore what to improve. As I reread Chapter 2 and did not find anything being wrong. 3. My real problem are times and word order. But sometimes I put words wrong on purpose, because I think it sounds more powerfull. And I do not want to sound squeaky and harsh, I just have first work interview in my live tom and I am DAMN nervous. Anyway, enjoy the chapter(shy smile) **

**A Lesson**

Ashford Hospital. He must remember. Ian sat in his privet chamber and dozens of candles were flickering around him. There was still a little hope that Masters will forgive him and let it go. They do know Ian never lets his prey to slip away… That will be too silly and unreasonable…

A knock on the door.  
All the little hopes Grant still was clinging to, faded away like the mist in the sun.

"The door is not closed." he said, trying to hide treacherous tremble in the voice.  
A silent creak and a head poking in the strip of light.

"Grant, they are waiting for you. Hell knows what is your fault but… Masters are angry."  
Ian stood up and politely nodded, while putting black shirt back on.

"Thanks, I know."

Carefully he went out and closed the door behind himself. Carefully made his way in the basement of the building that all his life he considered to be home. Narrow hallways, stone walls… But mostly pressure. Great pressure was felt in the air as Ian opened door and stepped inside. Not even making a step further, he fell on one knee, showing respect to the people whose faces he had never seen and whose names he had never asked.

"We know what had occurred today but we want _you,_ Ian, to tell us _your _point of view."  
"It is the honour, milord. But there is really nothing to tell. I… Missed."

A silence fell. The sweat drop made its way down Ian's forehead.  
"Why?"

"In the last second Kurtis Trent turned a bit and…"  
"Enough of this! You know what price you have to pay for a failure."

Grant bowed head even lower. He knew the price too well.

"Let me just say that I will continue my efforts till Kurtis Trent is dead. As you wished him to be. I am still honoured and proud that you have chosen me for this mission."

The Lord, at least it was Ian's guess, stroked his head.  
"Good boy. Now, you know where to go."

Grant stood up and went straight ahead, without looking on the three figures in cloaks, that followed right behind. It was forbidden to look at them. Punishment would come immediately.

They ended up in a small round room. Ian was here too many times so he did not need any reminding of what to do. Slowly he took shirt off and came to the wooden panel with chains. Then, without hurrying, as the Masters did not like the hurry, Grant chained his legs and left arm to the table. One of the Masters helped him with the right hand. The table, or panel, after all those times he was here, Ian did not develop a true definition of this thing, got turned vertically.

The Lord himself would lead the procedure. He always did. That was the only thing puzzling hitman so far. Others were tortured by two remaining Masters. But Lord was always busy with Ian. Only with him and with nobody else.

"Choose the weapon."

On a nearby table, at least this was the table for sure, lay all weapons Grant was possessing as an assassin. Two 'Glocks', nine Shirukens, a set of throwable daggers, short and long Katanas…

"So, Ian, which one will it be?" sounded the question again.  
"Long Katana." answered the man after pondering a bit.

The Lord took shining weapon and weighed it in the hand.

"Tortures are…"  
"Punishment." echoed Ian. Another ritual. He worshiped them.

"Punishment is…"  
"A lesson."

"Lesson I gain through…"  
"Failure."

"Failure is…"  
"Only my doing. And I accept it."

Like a knife through butter, the Katana went through Grant's chest. A disgusting creaking sound of the breast bones breaking… Ian screamed and felt blood coming up the throat. The Lord kept pushing the ancient weapon further and further while only the hilt was sticking out. Katana broke the wooden panel and was seeable from the other side, red from blood that started to drip on the floor.

Surprisingly enough Grant was still breathing. The Lord came to him and lifted man's chin with two fingers.  
"What must you do, my boy?"

Slowly Ian opened eyes and looked into nothing. Lips started to move but all that was heard – bubbling of blood in the throat. Finally words started to be heard.

"…and kill Kurtis Trent… find…and…kill... Kurtis…Trent… Find…"  
Then he fainted. The Lord shook head and waved away.

"Release. He learned his lesson well. And if not… we meet soon enough."  
Katana got pulled out, hands and feet untied. Motionless body of the hitman fell on the floor.

Ian got put on the bed that was standing in the dark corner of the room. Doctor would have said that the man is dead or lives his last seconds. But no… As the minutes passed by, the terrible wound in the chest started to heal. Silent cracks somewhere in Ian's chest told that the bones started to rebuild themselves.

* * *

One of the Masters turned head a bit, so he would face the Lord. 

"Milord, I do not understand… It is the 10th year of the new millennia, he is 30… When will it happen? I start to fear we did a terrible mistake all those years ago. What if…"

"His time will come. Not always the prophecy is as good as it seems. His marks talk better then anything else."  
"What about Trent? He may find out…"

"Exactly that is why Ian will do his best so Mr. Trent will not have that chance."  
"Trent is strong."

A smile curved thin lips of the Mighty Master.  
"Ian is stronger. He will be his doom. And the doom of all the Order of Light. "


	4. A Dream

**Nothing to say, exept that I tried to make this chapter weird and raise some suspections over several points. I hope I succeeded. Enjoy. **

**A Dream**

A long hallway, many doors. Kurtis tried each one of them but none had opened. The building looked familiar… He was there once, many years ago. Back in Salt Lake City. When mother died.

_Kurtis was sitting in a cosy armchair and was wiggling with legs. He had been desperately bored and just kept examining the doctors that were running past him. With patients and without. Strangely enough, father still did not return from mama. One of the assistants had spotted a little boy with messy but short dark hair and big blue eyes. She smiled at him, took something from administrational bar and came closer._  
"_Hi. Why are you alone?"  
Kurtis pulled lip. Father did not like him talking to strangers but the nurse was young and cute. And he was just too bored._  
"_My dad was called away by doctor."_  
"_So you are waiting for your mother here?"  
Kurtis shyly nodded._  
"_What is your name? Mine is Tracy. I work here."_  
"_I am Kurtis. With a 'K'."_  
"_Nice to meet you. Here, take a candy. I am sure your dad will be back with the great news soon."  
Boy nodded and quickly grabbed the offered lollypop.  
Father came back. Kurtis remembered jumping to him and asking what happened, being still young and inattentive, unable to see how pale Konstantin's face was.  
A quiet sob, the prelude to the hysterical crying. A strong arm hugging him and allowing to cry in the shoulder. Just a little drama of many that took place there… _

Kurtis felt two lonely tears rolling down his cheeks as he started to walk faster and faster, recognising every place in Saint Mark's Hospital when thirty years ago he lost his mother. Strange shadows were passing by… People! Those were shadows of people that once were here. What is this place? What is he doing here? A sudden breeze blew a little paper to his feet. Kurtis sat on one knee and carefully picked it up.

_Marie Ozersky – Landri  
Chamber 17ab  
Second Floor_

Like a wind Kurtis dashed upstairs. It cannot be for nothing! There is the purpose in all of this!

The door 17ab creaked as he entered. There, on the pillows lay his mother. In some mixture of fear and admiration he, step by step, came closer. Kurtis forgot how beautiful his mother was. Only now, from the height of his age, Trent could fully understand it. Long black hair was spread over the pillows and grey eyes were partly closed. He leaned on the bed and reached hand to stroke her forehead.

Kurtis did not expect that all of a sudden Marie would open eyes and with trembling hand grab his arm.  
"Konstantin… Konstantin… Please! Do not let _them_ steal our baby… Please do… not… let them steal our boy…"

"Boy? Who are you talking about?" squeezed Kurtis out, too shocked to imagine something smarter.  
"Baby… in nursery… Please…" the scream turned to whisper and she fainted. Three hours later, without awaking, she died.

_Kurtis, your mother… She died. And the little baby with her…_

He smashed the door behind himself, knowing that it will not disturb mother anymore. Nursery had to be on the same floor. Kurtis almost bumped into the door. He ran in and froze. Only one crate was standing there.

_Ozersky_

But what mostly scared him was a figure standing near the cradle and bowing a bit, looking at the baby sleeping inside.  
Tall man dressed in black, with black hair brushing his shoulders and piercing grey eyes which now looked amused and even scared.

"Why you mother fucking prick!!! Don't you dare to touch that child!!!" with that cry he rammed into the stranger.

A sudden pain.  
The darkness.

* * *

A long hallway, many doors. Ian tried each one of them but none had opened. He had never been here, that was for sure. It looked like some sort of the medical centre but why is he here? Last thing Grant remembered: fainting from the pain after his spine broke. And now he is in hospital? The irony. The only way out seemed to continue further down the hall. The building seemed empty. Looked like all people all of a sudden fled from here, leaving everything behind. All doors on this floor were closed as well. Only the ones leading on the second floor weren't.

"Well…I suppose it is an invitation of some sort." muttered Ian trying to ignore a strange shivers that were constantly running down his spine. Door to the room number 17ab was opened a bit so Ian came in, very carefully. He did not want to disturb anyone.

Near the window stood a bed. There, covered with thin blanket, lay a woman. Long black hair was spread over the pillows and eyes with long dark eyelashes were closed. She could have been calmly sleeping if not the sweat drops on the forehead, as also quiet but uneven breathing. Ian touched her forehead and checked machinery. Marie, that was her name according to the card, was not doing well at all. It was also written that less then an hour ago she gave birth to a child. Named… His eyes became bigger as he read the name on the card 'Ian'.

Could it be…?  
"Am I in my own past?" whispered Grant too shocked of what he just read. "Is she my mother…?"

The baby, according to the little note lying on the table, was in the nursery now. On his toes Ian went out and calmly closed the door behind himself. Nursery was near. And the door was again invitingly opened. Grant came in and saw only one cradle standing in the middle of the room. On a little card was written his name.

Ian bowed forward and looked at the little baby inside. The tiny creature squeaked, wiggled with arms and legs and then suddenly opened eyes. Grey eyes with a little dark - grey stripe going round the pupils. Ian's eyes.

Somebody entered the room. Grant looked up and saw the person he would never expect to meet _here_, in own dream.  
Kurtis Trent.

"Why you mother fucking prick!!! Don't you dare to touch that child!!!" yelled the policeman and leaped right towards him.

A sudden pain.  
The darkness.


	5. A Lonely Cry

**Yay! I squeezed another chapter. I have a feeling it is rather crappy and I am SO jealous at people who actually take time to work at their fic. I cannot. (sad) 2 Akkon. Thanks for the comment. I have to say I also do not see Kurtis as the policeman. But I am rather crazy person so I like paradoxes. Kurtis being a policeman is one of them. But anyway, enjoy the chapter. I tried my best to do some cheap horror(lol)  
**

**A Lonely Cry**

Kurtis was calmly lying in his bed. The curtains were drawn and just the sonorous beeps of the life support machinery disturbed the silence. Doctors were once again truly amazed how fast the man was recovering. Yet he needed to lie quiet, without much of moving and surely without talking. Kurtis was too noisy for a shot patient, so Lara and concilium decided to keep him on the tranquilizers and sleeping pills. That would make the things a lot easier.

Right now Kurtis was alone as Lara left the chamber for a while. Doctor asked her in. Perhaps he wanted to discuss whether Mr. Trent can be transported home and what care he must receive then.

As she marched down the hallway, for a second, with the corner of her eye, Lara noticed some movement in one of the passages to the other medical sections. She turned around. Nothing. Perhaps it was just her imagination, too disturbed by the events that happened a week ago.

Lara had no doubts over who the person was. Her husband is wanted dead. Those people, whoever they are, sent a killer. Perhaps a lousy one. Because he missed. But Lara had met enough killers in her life to know one thing for certain. They always return for their prey. Death is money. From blood come cars, houses, women… She had a week to understand why Kurtis was hunted. The only possible variant was the recent case he was in charge of. Gruesome murder of two businessmen. Seemed too simple. Shotgun, two shots, brains on the wall… Yet the motive… It was not a 'dirt cleaning' between two rival corporations. There had to be more. And Kurtis agreed with that. Using his knowledge of mystic powers, Trent always tried to dig deeper then what is obvious.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Croft, we have to go here."  
Lara blinked. It took her several seconds to realise where she is.

"Forgive me, Mr. McCoy, I got a bit… Distracted."

"It happens sometimes with all of us." smiled the man and adjusted glasses. Politely he let Lara go first and carefully closed the door behind them.

* * *

Nice back - view… Ian always had a sensible spot for long trained legs and round bums. He wiggled one eyebrow and only then noticed that he got slightly distracted. Perhaps lack of female attention was influencing him greater then he thought. This or other way, he will need a descendant once. Then such female as Lara Croft will be just fine. She turned around and Ian quickly pulled back, cursing himself for poking head from behind the corner so much.

The doctor invited her in and Grant got another chance to admire her figure and beautiful hair, almond eyes. However, angel outside did not match much with the inside of a rough, feministic and somewhat self – centered person. Her mother instinct was somewhere near zero, as also her care for the husband and marriage in daily life.

The door had closed. Ian did not know how much time he had but the business had to be done quickly. Still weak after the tortures that took place some week ago, Grant went hunting again. It is better to strike now, when _he_ is weak and unable to defend himself. Kurtis Trent is not a person to mess up with. Though Ian would prefer to meet him in an open challenge.

The door of the room 198 closed behind Ian. However, not completely. Opening doors costs precious seconds of clear escape.

Trent was quietly snoozing near the window. Ian hated such tactics of killing a human in the sleep. A way of a coward. On the other hand, the person will die without sufferings. The man was covered with a thin cotton blanket and Grant shoved it aside. More convenient to do the stab on the clean body. Sound of shirt being ripped off. A gasp of amusement.

On Kurtis' chest, occupying all the space from armpit till armpit and from neck till the underbelly, stood a tattoo of a crucifix. Just bold black line without colour filled in the rest of free space. A cross where all the sides were equal and edges were curling a bit inside. A cross just like Ian had. On the same place. Of the same type.

"What is the meaning of this??" he whispered, with one finger following the endless line. Ian seemed to forget the time. A strange tension started to grow in the room. Several sparkles had lit in the air. Grant felt the sickness coming up again. Just like then, back in the Croft Manor. A spasm made him to curl on the floor and vomit something black. More blue sparkles in the air.

All of a sudden Kurtis opened eyes and screamed. Slowly his pupils started to get bigger and bigger till they filled the eye sockets and the black liquid started to drip on the chest.

The door flew open and Lara ran in. She had heard the scream but all she saw was a dark figure jumping out of the window. Without hesitation she followed. Kurtis' room was on the first floor so Lara did not risk breaking her bones.

Strong wind and heavy rain made it hard to run or to see anything. The good thing was, right now killer experienced the same problems. He was running remarkably slow, fell several times. When he slipped on one of the turns, Lara grabbed his arm.

"Who are you?!"

"Let me go!!" yelled the man and even through the wall of the rain Lara saw deep black eyes with an evil reddish glow. All inside her had froze in horror as she recognised that stare. The Nephilim in the Strahov, the one she destroyed, had those eyes.

The man saw her confusion and used it to break free and just a second later he was gone.

Lara had nothing to do here anymore, so she returned to the hospital. Kurtis… Kurtis was sleeping! Another wave of confusion splashed in her mind. She had heard him screaming, no doubt about that. But… he was here, snoozing like nothing happened. His chest, blankets, floor, everything was in this strange black liquid. And yet he did not care.

"Really shady business is going on around here and I say… I smell a big fat rat." muttered Lara to herself, starting the cleaning up as something was telling her the doctors better not to see all of this.

* * *

The rain was pouring down on a lonely figure sitting in the narrow passage between two houses. Ian was trembling heavily and felt that any second he will start to cry like a baby. Grant could not understand what was happening to him, first time in his life Ian was afraid. He dried eyes just to find that the tears, which were rolling from his eyes, were black.

"Somebody… help… me…" whispered Ian as he dropped head on the crossed hands and did not move anymore.


	6. Skeletons In The Closet

**Pfew, I came with another chapter so do not kick me if you do not like the history,my eyes almost fell out due to brainworking.. And I am not LC (tongue) Enjoy! **

**Skeletons In The Closet **

Carefully he took the little bottle from the table and looked at it again. Black – reddish liquid heavily splashed inside it. Kurtis held head a bit crooked and silently stroke glass again. And again.

"Tears of the God."

Lara, who was reading a book near the fireplace, raised head and looked confused at her husband. A week passed since his returning home but Lara still could not get used to his new voice. A bit lower then it was and raspy, as he had smoked too much recently.

"What do you mean?"

Kurtis turned around and showed the little bottle.  
"This is called 'Tears of the God.' Are you sure it came from the killer?"

After cleaning the chamber in the hospital Lara decided to take some samples of the strange black stuff that presumably came from a man that wanted to kill Kurtis. Later, Trent pointed out on her mistake. Liquid was black with red. Kurtis went to police department to check who the killer was but no matches were found. Seemed like a person was a fresh newcomer. Now he sat in the living room and constantly was looking at the little bottle. It was hard for him to believe that some of _them _still live. Hard to believe that the Hunt has to start all over again.

"Tell me what you know." suggested Lara. She was curious and intrigued. Kurtis' knowledge in religion was something she always admired.

A little smirk crawled on his face as Kurtis' ego had been stroked.  
"You surely know who the Nephilim are. Sons of men and angels."

"Only sons?" she asked, partly joking.  
Kurtis narrowed eyes in annoyance.

"Maybe also daughters. I suggest you ask _important _question and do not make me angry."  
A nod of a good girl was the answer.

"First there were angels. Unlike Adam they were created not from the dust but from His tears. Tears are sadness, tears are Darkness. The blood of the First was black as the night."

Lara caught herself on a very attentive listening.

"The first to break the Law was the Guardian. An angel with black wings, the right hand of Him. The child that was born had black blood with a reddish glow as two beings had mixed in the one."

"So… Those were Nephilim." stated Lara and shove the newspaper away.

"No." followed the simple answer. "Nephilim, as a name, came much later. That time they were called the Watchers. Angels could not always follow people, especially after the God forever had forbidden his army to walk the Earth. Watchers were needed to help people in need, to save them."

"Sounds like they were rather good. What happened?"  
A pause fell. As Kurtis was trying to remember something. Or was gathering strength.

"The blood of humans is a poison. It brought emotions, wills. Jealous of their fathers, who lived in heaven, who never knew misery, pain, illnesses, the Watchers started the war against Him. What once was good – turned to be evil. Watchers were killing and crippling people, seducing them. Their, so to say, motto was 'If not we, then nobody.'"

"So the God cursed them." was a quiet reply.  
A splash of liquid against the glass.

"Yes. Unable to get to heaven, they also could not get in hell. The Watchers were forced to stay on Earth forever. Some of them got desperate. Desperation brought hatred. From there such as Joachim Karel appeared. The chameleons, shapeshifters. They lost the chance to get in heaven, so they decided to make hell on earth. The Nephilim gathered around themselves a bunch of servants, like Eckhardt, to do a dirty job for masters, without even knowing that."

Lara decided to object. The story was fascinating but something did not fit in the scheme.  
"But Karel…"

"Worked for Eckhardt? No… He told you that himself. Manipulating people – that is the talent of the Evil Ones. But if you think that Joachim Karel was something extraordinary, then think twice. The tactics he used – it was in his blood, an instinct that was coming from the First Dark Angels."

Then Kurtis silenced. Lara did not drop a word too. She was thinking. Seemed like Kurtis did not say everything he knew. And she just had to know.

"You said 'some of them'. What happened with the others?"  
Trent looked up and a strange mix of emotions reflected on his face. Like he awaited a question and begged her not to ask. A sight.

"Others understood the terrible mistake they have made and even though the Gates of Heaven got closed for them, they asked for forgiveness. The Watchers offered their loyalty once again and the God accepted it. He changed them by own will, took away the ability to shapeshift, made them mortal, gave a human appearance. Those became priests, Templars and…"

Kurtis turned away and looked deep into the fire. Did she deserve to know? The most sacred secret of them all? Perhaps… He now wished somebody to be near, to give advice. It was so difficult to be the Last of the Order…

"…and Lux Veritatis warriors."

A gasp was heard. Lara did not expect that turn and for a second on her face and in her eyes surfaced the great admiration for Kurtis' bravery.

"The Order of Light was found by those who searched for redemption." dropped Trent. "There were also humans, though. My powers… All I have… It is the gift that came from the God to the ones who took courage. He ordered them to battle their evil brothers and with pain in the heart The Fallen agreed. The God marked people and creatures, in total seven with special marks. The ones you saw on me. I used to tell you those were ordinary tattoos made when a new warrior had been initiated but I lied. I was born with them. Like my father, like his father, like every descendant of One from The Seven."

Lara saw that Kurtis needed rest but there was something she wanted to know before she'd leave him alone.

"You said blood of the Nephilim is called 'Tears of the God.' Forgive me but I do not see an exact connection. Only that angels were created from His tears."

The answer took long. Kurtis could not take the tension anymore; he hated himself for telling Lara all this, he hated himself that he started this talk. He hated himself in general. Still, he gathered the strength for the final answer.

"When the God cursed the Angels of Darkness, He cried."  
"I am sorry." she whispered and quietly went away, leaving Kurtis alone with his thoughts, fears and hopes.

* * *

"What if we did a mistake? And Ian is nothing to do with _them_?"  
"You saw his marks, you know."

"It also could be Kurtis Trent, milord."  
"Fool! Trent is useless, he is the Sleeper! Just one of many that will never awake."

"But in the Prophecy…"  
"Perhaps. But only if they get together once. _See_ each other. _Feel_. Our dear Ian will make sure that will not happen. The boy digs his own grave."

"Yes, milord."


	7. Captured

**I finally put myself together an had rewritten this chapter. If you will not like it much, feel free to ask to rewrite it again. I will be ok. I put some Lara's perspective, just like you pointed out, Acid. I hope you all like this chapter (smile) **

**Captured**

She curled up under the fluffy blanket. Kurtis did not come. He was arriving only when she was asleep and was going away before Lara would wake up. Like that Trent was trying to avoid talks and discussions. They still were sleeping together but Kurtis was neglecting her in any way he could, especially for last week, after he revealed the true story of Lux Veritatis.

Looking back on everything what happened, Lara knew who to blame. Herself. Yet too proud to admit it, she had to witness how fragile happiness turns to dust. Lara was not meant to be family woman, the freedom of the bird that what was calling upon her. Kurtis and son was slowing her down, dragging away from a dream. Lara thought that Trent will be the one of her own nature. He did make such impression back in Paris and Prague. The rogue, without home and any attachments. Yet…

_You need a shrink, Lara. You have a son, you have responsibilities!_

She remembered the red handprint on his cheek. Kurtis, without a single word, just turned around and slammed the door. Croft Manor was big enough for them not to see each other for two days. Echoes of the past filled her mind as she dug face deep in the pillow.

_I thought you were different! How could I be so blind?! Brought up in the little sick community of total…_  
The stare in Kurtis' eyes made her tremble. Cold fingers squeezed her arm so hard Lara thought she heard a bone creaking.

_Never EVER again say that about my family or you will regret it, Lara._

Later doctor had found several amounts of fractures in the bone. Now Lara understood why. Being a descendant of the angels Kurtis possessed strength of two, even three people. That did not save him from Boaz, however.

The sleep did not seem to come. She knew that the bastard sits in the living room probably, and attentively 'tracks down' every activity here with his special abilities.

"Stupid goat." she whispered, knowing that he will hear.

"Bitch. Go to sleep already." answered Kurtis two rooms ahead of her, turning away from the fire and slowing down blue sparkles that were jumping in his eyes.

Two hours passed when finally Lara calmed down in her bed and tucked herself in blanket. Kurtis could 'feel' her calm breathing, 'see' long dark eyelashes trembling in the sleep. He would give anything for Lara never to awake. To be like this. In the night cold woman was turning to something she could have been if not so much tragedies on her way.

Slowly Kurtis stood up and put an unfinished cigarette in the ashtray. The peace, the serenity. For six more hours. And then it starts all over again.

As his hand touched the door handle, Kurtis bowed head and closed eyes. Like a breeze went through the quiet atmosphere of the house. Disturbance. While Kurtis was making his way through the dark hallway and down into the main hall, he felt the tension in the air growing. But when he got, as he thought, to the point of disorder, there was…nothing.

Kurtis turned around once, twice… The strange feeling did not vanish. He was not alone. Yet the person was not here.

A shadow separated itself from a nearby pillar and as Kurtis turned around, driven by the instinct of self – safety, poked a gun right between his eyes.

"Mister Trent, I assume?"  
Kurtis rolled with eyes, trying to persuade brains in working a bit faster.

"What if I am not?"  
The stranger seemed to get a bit angry. The gun started to tremble and slid somewhere in direction of Kurtis' eye.

"You… Do not dare to laugh over me. You will be executed…now!"

With the speed of the light Kurtis dropped himself on the floor and with leg punched the man right in the wrist. Smothered squeak was the answer as the gun dropped on the marble floor.

"That is a pity as my schedule is planned a year ahead."  
Kurtis rolled to the wall and hit the light switch. The killer did not expect that and got blinded for a split second.

Trent blinked and stared to the figure in front of him. The man from his dream. The one who was bowing over the cradle with his brother.  
"What do you want from me? And how did you get in my dream?"

"I am not…ans…wering on your questions. You will…die."  
_Not in this life._

The man was weak. He was breathing heavily and all his face was covered in black liquid that was constantly dripping from his eyes. Nephilim. There was a little pause while the killer studied Trent's face and then, with the yell of anger, stormed on the opponent. A short fight. Loud scream. Disgusting and scary sound of the bone breaking.

"What is happening here?!" Lara ran down the stairs to the Kurtis, who was sitting on the body of motionless man and smoking.  
"Is that the killer?" he nodded to the side of intruder's head. Lara attentively looked at the face of the person.

"Yes, it is him. Is he… Dead?"  
There was a pause while Trent watched the smoke from the cigarette disappearing in the air.

"No. That man is a wreck. To kill him now will be a waist of an interrogation material."  
Lara snickered. More annoyed then angry.

"You are not at work, officer Trent. I do not allow that man to be in the house near Tony."  
Now it was Kurtis' turn to smirk.

"Oh really? Give one single reason to listen to you."  
"It is my house."

"I live here too. At least for now."  
"Tony is my son."

"Yeah, biologically. Yet you behave like he is just a kid next door."  
Lara opened mouth to say something obviously not so nice but Kurtis just waved her away.

"Save me from your useless lectures. That man stays here. The Manor is big enough for Tony not to encounter this particular person."  
A growl was heard as Lara stormed upstairs. Kurtis stood up and threw cigarette on the floor. Wife will be angry. The pleasure.

"Now, my dear Dark Angel, we shall find you a cosy place far far away from my son and later, when you wake up, we will talk and let us hope God presented you at least a minimum of cooperational skills."


	8. The Talks

**I cannot believe my own eyes, I updated. Stupid computer. Then again, for this chapter I had huuge amount of plaans but it was month ago and I forgot what I wanted. Curse me! Why didn't I write it down. Anyways, I hope you like it (cheerful smile) **

**The Talks**

It was absolutely dark in the small room with no ventilation or even a single window. Ian was sweating constantly and tried to catch some breath. Chained with one hand to a bed and with the other to a radiator of some sort, man could not do anything, even to dry his face that was all itchy from the dirt and black stuff covering it.

Door flew open and Ian narrowed eyes. Too much light. Since a while the world for assassin became visible in infrared spectrum. He was ashamed of his feelings but Ian was scared. He could not understand what was wrong with him and there was no one who could help.

"The Sleeping Beauty had waken up." stated cynical voice near his ear. Ian blindly turned head to the direction of the voice but he could not see anything. Bright light was corrupting his vision.

"I will not tell you anything."

"Aren't we such a proud Nephilim…? Now, why do you so utterly want to kill me?" Kurtis sounded calm but Grant recognised controlled fury in his voice. Policeman was waiting for the chance to beat someone. Like…him.

"A who?" the word 'Nephilim' did not ring any bell. "Listen, I do not know what are you talking about and I am not saying anything. But… please… turn the light off…"

Truly Ian was shocked by the begging intonation that slipped in his tone. But his brains seemed to swell greatly and eyes could fall out any minutes due to indescribable pain. A dry laugh somewhere to the left from him.

"You think I am mad? Like I do not know how you, creatures, see? How many of you, pricks, still wander the Earth?"

The outburst came all of a sudden. The fear and frustration, the anger on himself mixed in one, making Ian throw himself forward in the possible direction of Trent. The metallic handling of the bed creaked and broke. The radiator, however survived, leaving Ian chained and unable to reach his enemy.

"I do not know what you are talking about!!! Whoever the Nephilim are I am not one of them! I do not know what is happening to me, for crying out loud, it started recently!!"

There was a pause.  
"Recently?"

"Open your eyes, idiot!! Don't you see?! Just the fact that you were the first to survive from all my targets… Doesn't it mean anything? I am ill, weak, I do not understand that frigging shit inside my body... Turn at least the light off; show some of the famous London police tolerance!!"

Ian heard the click and the light in the room died. Trent was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed on chest.

"You are one interesting thing. I must study this shit of yours closer. Now, stand up."  
Ian crawled up and Kurtis unlocked the handcuffs from the radiator.

"Follow me. Our little interrogation is far from over, but I will put you in some other place, with more room. Weak prisoner is a bad information source."

The humiliation was terrible. As to Ian, he treated everyone with respect. Perhaps with the twisted sort of respect but he never made a person to feel itself being 'pushed down'. Trent, however, enjoyed that greatly. Truly a sadist but, maybe, it had to do something with policeman's complexes. Ian was much taller, stronger, and good-looking. The possibility of Kurtis taking sort of 'revenge' was rather high: after all, to be 'higher' then someone like Ian brings great satisfaction. Grant shook head in frustration. And he, himself, is rather modest. Nice pair they are making together.

Trent opened another door, poked Ian in the room and casually closed two pairs of handcuffs around another bed and a new radiator.

"Sit here and rethink your miserable life. I will drop by a bit later so you better start imagining something more smarter then you said a while ago, _assassin_."

The last word was pronounced with such disgrace that it made Ian smirk. Policemen. They are all the same. They kill dozens of people and claim it to be in the name of the law. But if you do the same… A court and forty years in prison. The irony of life.

As the door got shut behind Kurtis, Ian tried to settle down and catch some sleep. He could not remember the last time he had the opportunity.

Perhaps hours passed when Grant suddenly woke up. He could bet on his katana that there was some sound that disturbed the silence in his 'prison'. Ian looked around and noticed a small figure standing in the other corner of the room, hiding little flashlight behind the back.

Trent forgot to lock the door, sadly stated Ian to himself.

"Hey." He said somewhat cheerful and curled lips in friendly smile. Ian was not in the mood to entertain little children but he did not want to offend the little guy who obviously took courage to go in here.

"What are you doing here?" was the question. The boy obviously had guts.  
"You are Tony, right?" Ian tried to be polite.

"Anthony. How do you know?" little guy came a bit closer and took the flashlight out. Short, just like his father, with spiky brown hair and grey – blue eyes.

"I am err… A friend of your parents. Father mostly."  
"My dad does not have any friends. And if he does… He keeps them not in here."

Assassin's mouth dropped open as in his whole life he did not hear such smart talk from a six year old child. Obviously boy was close to genius. For that he, probably, had to thank his mother as she possessed a lot of knowledge in a lot of spheres. Strong and demanding personality, with the taste for passionate interrogation Anthony inherited from father. That was for sure. A nice mixture, Ian had to say.

"Your father and I had some…argument."  
The boy nodded seriously and took something from the pocket.

"Look, I have a dinosaur. Want to see?"  
Some things never change.

"It is a cute dinosaur, really."  
Tony put the toy on Ian's lap and looked at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?"  
"My name is Ian."

"No, who you _really _are?"  
There was a pause while Ian tried to understand what the boy really wants to hear from him.

"I am human… Why?" that sounded very insecure as Ian did not believe in it himself anymore.  
"You are not. My dad told me stories… about such as you. How you wanted on the sky but stayed here, being angry."

Ian bit his lip as he did not know what to say. He wished there was an answer, but there weren't.

"I am also like that." said Tony in a friendly way. He seemed to feel the pain that was tearing Ian inside and was trying to help. An innocence of a little child. "And dad too. But he hides."

"Hides? Why?"  
Tony's attention had already slipped away.

"Are you hungry? I have a chocolate bar."  
Man nodded though he had hardly heard what the boy said.

"Who are Nephilim?" Ian finally asked. A silly try as the little guy perhaps does not know even.  
"They are like you, I think. Or maybe not. Are you good?"

An innocent question. Is he good? How many people did he kill in all the possible ways and with all the possible weapons? Hundreds.  
"Am I good? I do not know. I killed a lot of people."

Big curious eyes looked at his face.  
"You made them die? Why? You wanted?"

"No. I was asked. Yet, I liked it."  
Tony paused thinking over something and then shot out another question.

"Did you kill a kid?"  
Never in his life had Ian touched a single hair on child's head. That was a self – created taboo he could not disobey.

"A child is not responsible for its parents' doings. I never hurt any of the kids I had met."  
A satisfied nod was the answer.

"Then you are good."  
"I would not be so quick, Anthony. You have no idea what I did to people."

The boy was already leaving the room when stopped and turned around.

"My dad, when he was a bit more little then you… He also did very bad things to people. Also made them feel very very bad. Hurt them much. But still he is good. And you are too."

The door silently closed, leaving Ian alone with his thoughts. All he had heard from Trent - junior needed rethinking and analysing. About Kurtis Trent's doings during the Foreign Legion Ian read in the file but what Tony wanted to say with the words 'I am like you' and 'my dad hides'?

Assassin was too tired so it did not take long before he could forget all his worries in a deep yet restless sleep.


	9. Recognition

**I can't believe I finally wrote something. I hope you like this chapter as I was struggling greatly. Well... The last option does not nesseserily means that you have to like it. I also was very tired so forgive me, please, my horrible grammar. Disclaimer: I do not own any TR characters, they are all property of Eidos and CD (boo hoo) but I do own Ian, Seven Lords and Tony hehehe... Enjoy the reading (asleeps on keyboard)  
**

**Recognition**

_Recently. _With moan Kurtis turned around kicking in blanket. His eyelids were trembling but the nightmare was not letting him go. _I do not know… It started recently! _Little boy reached to Kurtis. His big grey eyes were full of fear and long black hair was waving in the cold wind. _It started recently!!_ He cried out but the voice was that of assassin. Kurtis felt himself turning around and walking away. Broken scream and child crying.

The pillow was wet from sweat and Kurtis almost strangled himself with the blanket, so tucked he was. Slowly he shook head, trying to get rid of the remains of bad dream. What are dreams? They are reflections of our mind, our fears, our doubts, hapinesses and miseries. Everything seemed so perfectly fitting together yet something was wrong. Killer mentioned the changes started not so long ago. He did not seem being familiar with Nephilim or all the 'heaven' business at all. On the other hand, even if he was the Sleeper, just like Kurtis himself, there is no possibility of him waking up so suddenly and so powerful. There is no even a single chance of him waking up at all. Yet…

It was cold in the library so Kurtis performed a series of tribal jumps on one leg to warm himself. The huge hall was full of books from all over the world, of all ages and all authors. A small bookshelf, hidden in the dark depth of the Hall of Learning was what Kurtis was looking for. His own little library. Books on Latin and Lux Veritatis language that few could read. Kurtis clearly remembered that one book contained the information he needed. Which one then? A wild guess and policeman dragged out giant foliate. The Book of Seven Lords. Carefully, without even breathing on the relict, Kurtis opened the book. It was a treasure passed from the beginning of the order to every new Lord. Currently it was Kurtis. Once it will be Anthony. If he will ever get the sacred marks.

Golden letters were twinkling in the light of the candle that Kurtis put on the table. The book was too gentle to see the artificial light. Slowly, rethinking every word, last Lord of The Lux Veritatis started to read.

_There was One. The very first who was Blessed. He brought the others and they were Six. The Seven of them formed an Order so they were Lords…_

"I do not need that… It is the beginning." muttered Trent as he started to list the pages. "There must be something… Like…"  
With a corner of the eye he caught something interesting and listed back.

_The Prophecy._  
"Now we are getting somewhere." was satisfied grunt as Kurtis started to eat page with eyes.

Exactly thirty minutes later the door of Ian's 'cell' got smashed – opened.

Ian, who just fell in some sort of comatose and was partly sleeping partly fainting, raised head and stared at the man. He felt so bad that hardly could keep his head up.

"U…a….www…ugh…" he muffled but even tongue did not want to listen. Kurtis Trent sat on knees, firmly took his chin with two fingers and started to pour something in Ian's mouth. Assassin grunted in disdain but second later he felt the taste of water and desperately tried to catch every single drop that was sliding past his lips. Step by step the feelings started to return. The wrists felt pain as Trent took the handcuffs off.

"Stand up and follow me." said the policeman with firm intonation. Yet something in his voice changed. It was milder, like he knew something Ian did not and that 'something' was playing for hitman's profit. Presumably Trent felt his confusion as he immediately turned and added "But do not try to escape. There, where you are willing to go, your fate ends." Assassin silenced. There was a something strange in Trent's words, something that made Ian believe a total stranger and calmly follow him. They ended up in a bedroom of some sort. Giant place with enormous bed and wardrobe.

The next phrase made Grant's eyes crawl somewhere on the forehead and stay there.  
"Undress."

"P… Pardon?" his tongue was all swollen but Ian managed to squeeze something out.  
"Take your shirt off. I need to see something."

While blindly trying to take shirt off Ian also tried to make his point and express several views over current situation. It took hell of effort but he succeeded.

"You could actually just ask me… I guess I might know the answer. I wash myself time after time, you know…"

Finally he took shirt off and Kurtis stepped back. The first thing that caught his eye was assassin's physical condition. His body looked like it took years of training, patterns of scars were covering mighty torso but even they could not hide something Kurtis was hoping and, at the same time, was fearing to find. A giant templar cross on the chest.

"Turn around." he ordered and his voice made a little nervous jump. Man in front of him narrowed eyes and bowed head a little. He seemed to notice that little change but still did what was asked.

On the left shoulder hill there was a tattoo of a Lux Veritatis arrow piercing the tail of the snake, who was tightly strapped around the symbol.

"Can't… Be…" whispered Kurtis and bit his lip. It is absolutely can't be. But right here, in front of him, stood the Descendant of One from the Seven. It could not be cousin, uncle or nephew. The Marks were always belonging to the bearer of holy blood, straight descendant of the first Lord. Kurtis was one. And the person who was trying to kill him and failed was the second one. That means…

"Oh fuck. I need a drink." Kurtis dashed away but soon returned with the big bottle of finest Scotch. Killer got dressed already and now was lying in the bed, resting. Kurt pulled chair near the pillow and touched guy's shoulder.

"What is your name?" that sounded idiotic and childish but that was everything Trent's brains came up with at that moment.  
A sad sniff was the answer as hitman turned head in the direction of the voice.

"Ian."

"My mother… She liked that name a lot." Kurtis was stumbling over every word. Finally he gulped from glass and put the bottle on the toilet table. "Erm… So… Tell me about yourself."

"That is not what I prefer to talk about."

Trent took deep breath. They are always so stubborn, those little brothers. "Listen, I think I know who your masters are. And if I am right I will not let you go. Just out of your own safety. I know also something about you, Ian, that you do not know yourself… You just must tell me something."

"Leave me alone." Was the dull answer but Kurtis heard a note of pain. Mental or physical? Or both? "I hardly can talk…"

"I can help you. It… It probably sounds strange as you wanted my death…Well not you…your masters… I know who you are. And there is only one person in the world that can help you. Me."

Ian dropped pause as he was gathering strength to once again say something.  
"W..hy..?" he muffled.

"Because… This dream… You were in the birth house, remember?"  
Vague nod.

"You were looking at yourself in the cradle, right?"  
Another nod. Ian was too sick to ask even where Trent knows it from.

"I was there too. I was searching for my brother."

Ian's eyes opened wide when the meaning of the words slowly reached his consciousness. He stared at Kurtis' face for a second and then dropped on the pillow.

"That is just _too _much…" whispered assassin before slipping into nothing as the forces left him.


	10. The Wizardry

**I did it!! (jumps around) I submitted insignifically silly chapter but I did it! I hope you will like it. Thanks to Pash for helping with several word problems (smile) Enjoy, comment and kick my ass. I am happy to receive reactions, lol. It is updated chapter due eye torturing stuff so thanks to Rich for proof – reading although I did fight back several sentences of mine, lol.**

**The Wizardry**

Lara nervously sniffed the air and threw the blanket aside. She did not want to talk to Kurtis and for some days was successfully avoiding him but when your house starts to smell like this – something must be done. She quickly ran down the stairs and entered the kitchen. The whole space was filled with herbs and smelled the same. In the centre of this mess stood Kurtis and was attentively reading a book while stirring something with a long spoon in a black liquid that stank like the pits of the underworld. Lara cleared her throat, cracked her knuckles and grabbed Trent by the neck.

"Now, what do you think you're doing?"  
Kurtis calmly put the spoon on the table and sighed.

"Believe me, I have no idea…"  
"Excuse me?!"

He quickly turned away from Lara,  
"That is long story…"

Lara let go of his neck and crossed her arms.  
" Try me."

And Kurtis tried. As the story was revealing itself in front of Lady Croft, her eyes widened, as she could not believe what she was hearing.

"… And so now I am here, like Gandalf, trying to create the potion that will hide the signs of transformation. Am I the only one who feels highly embarrassed and humiliated with the fact?"

Lara tried to say something, snorted and then giggled.  
"No, you are not alone. What are you planning to do now… when you and Ian are finally together?"

Kurtis pondered for a while. Indeed, what did he plan to do? He did not know anything about Ian. There were plenty of things to ask and to talk about. Now, when his brother knows the truth it is impossible for him to return back. Ian has to stick with Kurtis. And if the Prophecy was true, then Trent – junior is in a great danger as he will be hunted like a fox. Little options, but even less time…

"I must study books and talk with Ian. His story will make situation clearer. But for now I have to finish this darn drink." he said.

Lara felt sympathetic for Kurtis. Too much had suddenly fallen on his shoulders. She actually wondered what her actions would be when his own brother would try to kill her. How would she behave, when someone considered dead just walked into her life? She must at least try to make Kurtis a bit more comfortable and must not start any scandals. At least, for now.

"Hey… Need a helping hand?" asked Lara carefully and took the book.  
"Huh? Oh… Ok." Kurtis rubbed his neck, which always showed his confusion.

His wife smiled cheerfully and made herself comfortable at the table.  
"Now, did you put camomile in?"

Ian grunted and turned around in the bed. The stench of herbs hit his nostrils and brave assassin felt his stomach making a double spin. In two leaps he was near the window. It took a second to open, next minute – vomit. When Trent – junior thought that it was already over, one whiff of the air made him go for the second round.

"Dammit…" he whispered coming out of the room, blindly searching the walls to hold on to and trying to wipe black sticky liquid from his eyes and mouth.

Soon enough Ian appeared in the kitchen and bumped into Lara. The defensive reaction from the experienced archaeologist was a smack in the face. Before the kitchen would turn into a battlefield, Kurtis forced assassin into the chair and put something horrible in front of his nose.

"Drink."

Ian sniffed the air and felt squeamish once again.  
"May I ask what…" Ian swallowed hard, pulling a face, " … It is exactly?"

"It is something that will make you feel better." Kurtis replied.  
Ian raised an eyebrow.

"And no, it is not a poison." Kurtis added, seeing the look on Ian's face. " Now, before I tie you to the chair and made you to drink it, do me a favour…"

As assassin reached out and clutched his fingers around the cup, Kurtis gave Lara a stare, asking to leave. His wife already read the book so it was not needed to ask twice. Things could get really nasty.

As the door closed, Kurtis put a hand on brother's shoulder and squeezed it a bit.  
"It may hurt."

Ian wriggled free from Kurtis' grip.  
"I have known you for just a few hours. I suggest you do not touch me anymore."

Short, but the more simple version would be, 'Go away, you mean nothing to me yet.'

As Ian pressed his lips to the hot edge of the cup, he felt a strong urge to throw up. How new and original. The unique stench of herbs made him sick. Nevertheless, two gulps and the beverage was finished. And nothing happened.

"You are one crappy herbalist, Trent. I do not feel any…"

It started from the stomach. Within a moment, pain spread all over his body, reaching the tips of his fingers and reaching up to his brains. Pain was eating him alive. As the scream left assassin's mouth, with one powerful blow he smashed the table. The burning feeling in the body refused to disappear. Ian could not think, he just wanted it to stop.

Kurtis watched his brother as he smashed the oak table into pieces and twirled towards the fridge. One hit with his fist and the refrigerator ended its life as the pile of metal. _An incredible strength, born out of undue suffering_. Or is it so?

Kurtis knew that he himself was stronger than any man but Ian… A true strength of fallen angels. In all its deadly beauty.

The scream made Trent moan in pain and cover his ears. The human could not hear it but for Kurtis it was as painful as if someone had pierced a burning needle in his brains and was constantly twisting it round. It did not bother him, however, to watch Ian and hope that his elixir did not trigger the process of turning to the Nephilim. The next few seconds brought a hell of a sweating as Kurtis saw how Ian's face got a little bit blurred, like he was trying to shape shift but could not succeed. It lasted for several seconds. Another scream. Deep trace, left by fingernails on the stone floor. An unconscious body, curled up in the corner. Kurtis sighed deeply and sat on the cold tiles. As Lara peeked in, horrified by the amount of destruction, and demandingly turning her head to Kurtis, her husband forced a faint smile and stood up.

"Well… I guess I am not making such a bad Gandalf after all…"  
A grin crawled onto Lara's lips, as she stepped in and looked at assassin.

"Gandalf needs some help and rest. Grab the gear."

Soft laughter dingled through the room, bouncing from the walls, twirling in the air. Kurtis could bravely state that right now, at this moment he was strangely, idiotically and absolutely happy.


	11. Serenity

**(hits herself with crowbar) It was like... Nine months since I updated!? Well, there was writer's block, then I went to visit my family in Latvia... The plus is - I kept thinking about this story and came out with some vague ideas how to continue it. So I took all my courage and wrote this. I know that nobody reads me and this chapter is probably a poo of them all but hell, it is a personal milestone!! For those who will take their time to read - comments and constructive critisism(apart from grammar because I know it sucks ) are highly welcomed. Chocolate chip cookies for the brave. Cheers! **

**Serenity**

The chaos was ruling in Croft Manor for the last three days. Kurtis Trent took off some time from work pretending he still did not feel in shape. There had to be done a lot. And a lot had to be talked about. He could not trust Lara on this. As reliable as she was Kurtis needed someone with the right knowledge and skills to perform those kinds of operations. The whole kitchen got turned in nothing less then an herbalist shop. Anthony was constantly sneezing and parents tried to keep him away from the smell, so the poor boy had to sit most of his time upstairs. He wasn't alone, however. Ian Trent, known before by the surname of Grant and a former assassin of Organisation he hardly knew anything about, had to reside upstairs as well. The smell of the boiling herbs was making him sick and weak. His so – called 'brother' and his almost ex – wife allowed Ian to walk freely around the house but it was strictly forbidden to even look outside. Not that he actually wanted to do that. Ian was very weak and distance from the room to the toilet and back seemed like a marathon to him.

There was plenty of time to think about what Kurtis Trent said to him. It was impossible to believe and yet, judging by what had happened in the hospital, as also what was happening to Ian recently… It could be true.

An orphan, he was raised in so – called Academy. Very few knew of its existence and even less people were actually granted an entrance. His thoughts once again returned to his childhood that was, by all means, stolen from him. He used to think of himself as a proud servant to a cause so great is was not necessary to question. Now he came to realise all _they_ needed was a perfect killing machine for own selfish and dark deeds. And Ian was perfect. He could not die; he had eyes of a bird and reactions of a feline… And if what Kurtis said was really true, they just needed him for something and Ian was too naïve to understand it then. But it was then. He was hoping Trent would come soon for a talk. Not that he trusted that policeman but world suddenly got so hostile and Ian needed at least some bay to throw and anchor in for a while. A knock in the door distracted young man from his more then grim thoughts.

"Yes, come in."

He saw a handle being moved up and down two times, like a person on the other side was not sure whether to enter or not. Then the door finally opened and Ian saw Anthony shyly peaking through the gap.

"Hi. Are you busy?"

Ian smiled and tried to make it look natural. He was ok with children but wasn't in a best condition to entertain them.

"No, Tony, come in. What do you want?"

Little boy carefully closed the door and came to Ian. He was clutching another plastic dinosaur in his hand. At least it wasn't the one assassin saw the first time they met.

"You know… I can't go downstairs and dad said you can't too… Can you play with me? It is no fun playing alone."

Ian wanted to curse but bit his tongue just in time. Children always come at the wrong time, don't they? Somehow they always get bored when you are busy. Or ill. Or tired and want to sleep.

"Erm… It is very nice of you to offer but you know, I feel a bit…"

"You don't have to do anything! I have cool toys. I can take them here and play here. And you can watch!" he hopefully stared in Ian's eyes and even blinked several times trying to be more cute.

"Ok then… Bring in your stuff." young man gave up and wrapped himself in warm blanket. After Anthony disappeared behind the door Ian stood up and settled up in nearby chair. While doing that he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. That strange and disgusting mutation was gone. His eyes were clear grey again and he could see in a normal human spectrum. However it could not be long till Kurtis would make him drink another of those disgusting potions. As Ian understood his well being now depended on them.

"Look! Look how much I have! This is dino playground… And this is a big pirate ship… Look, Ian!"

Assassin once again woke up from his thoughts and looked in the direction of the voice and had to put some effort to make his jaw not to drop somewhere on the ground. Anthony was hidden behind a huge pile of colourful toys of all shapes and sizes. Ian had never seen such stuff before. It was like he suddenly ended up in his long – forgotten childhood dream. When Ian was still a little boy, each night, while falling asleep on an inconvenient bed somewhere in the hidden catacombs, he was dreaming about Kingdom of Toys, that once could open its doors for him. Other people would find it silly but the assassin never owned a single toy soldier in his thirty year old life. Fun was a forbidden fruit in the Academy.

"You have so many toys… Where did you get them all?"

Anthony was busy putting pirates back on the ship and adjusting sails. For a boy he was remarkably accurate. Must have been the influence of his mother.

"Toys are from dad. Because he is also a boy and knows what I want."

"What about your mother?"

"Mama presents me books. I like them. Sometimes she reads them to me, when she is not away somewhere."

Ian took one dinosaur, that appeared to be Spinosaurus and twitched it in hands for a better view.

"Who do you love more?"

A pause fell while Anthony was busy putting dinosaurs in front of the big pirate ship. Ian figured out there was going to be a battle between impossible rivals. The boy finished and calmly looked up, searching for his 'playmate's' eyes.

"I don't know. I like them both. Dad is cool; he rides me on his bike and gives toys. Mama shows me a lot. Reads books. Tells interesting stories… But they fight a lot. It is not funny. And they want each other to go. But I want to stay with both of them." Anthony silenced and sniffed suddenly. He hid his face so Ian would not notice that he is softly crying. "I know it is because of me. But I am still little and nobody listens."

Now the assassin felt really guilty. It was not his intention to make a child cry. He was just not used to talk about daily stuff with the person that is twenty five years younger then he. Carefully Ian slid on the floor and reached out to stroke Anthony's head.

"Hey, cheer up. It will be better, I know."

"How do you know?" asked the boy suspicious, while drying his tears with the sleeve of the shirt.

"Well… Because I can read the future and… err… the future says that I will talk with your father about what bothers you. But it only happens if you cheer up, dry those tears and show me who will win in this fierce battle you organised."

Anthony seemed to be satisfied with the answer and cheered up a bit. Soon he already was attacking Dinosaur Legion from all the canons of the ship and looked closely that everything would be fair and nobody could get seriously hurt. However once one of the soldiers was considered to be down and wounded they were sent in the Medical Bay that was represented by Ian.

Kurtis Trent was sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by books written in Latin. They all contained the information about numerous herbs and their influence on human organism. He was very tired but did not allow himself to relax even for a minute. Kurtis was trying to make the potion work better and was hoping that at least one of the books carried the information he needed. He was just reading about Diplotaxis Erucoides when a huge cup of strong black coffee was put under his nose. The bitter smell tickled his nostrils and Kurtis inhaled it deeply and then looked above the book just to find out two awesome breasts peaking from the cleavage of black tank top.

"Mister Trent, my face is higher." said Lara's voice trembling from laughter. Kurtis snickered and put the book away, then clutched fingers around warm cup. Lara settled down at the table and swigged from her own cup. Knowing that coffee wasn't her passion, Kurtis would say it is real English tea with milk and lemon. And he would not make a mistake.

"It is late evening and you did not even leave the kitchen. I am worried about you." she said softly and took another swig.

"You don't have to be, Lara. In a Legion I used to 'live' in the kitchen. You know, punishments and such."

She carefully took one book and looked at the multiple pictures illustrating plants she had seen in all the parts of the world.

Since Ian Trent came in their life Kurtis and Lara both started to notice that their relationship that were falling into the abyss now start to get stable and stronger then before. Lara had pity for Kurtis exhausting himself so much and Kurtis seemed to be happy she is not going away. Both of them knew it will not last for long and they tried to clinge to a family illusion as long as possible.

"So… What are you planning to do? I mean you know that there is something big going on then just a family reunion."

Kurtis poked some sandwich that was on a table in his mouth, chewed a bit and then muffled.

"At first I figure out optimal variant for that damn potion. Then I need to figure out about those masters Ian was talking about. I fear there is something not just big, really big going on and Lux Veritatis is once again involved. It may be possible that I will have to pack my luggage. Above all that…I need to talk to Ian." Kurtis looked on the candle fire that was calmly trembling near one of the books. "Complicated, uh?"

"I bet." she nodded. "Is there any role for me in that great adventure of yours?"

Kurtis calmly smiled and brushed some strands of hair out of his face.

"As much as we fight over your lifestyle, your knowledge can be of a real asset if the things turn complicated, sweets. But you cannot go with us, if that what you mean."

"No, I asked about _any_ role. As much as you like to think I am a bitch I know my responsibilities. Someone has to look after Tony."

They both silenced. Kurtis finished his coffee and put the empty cup aside.

"You surprise me."

"You know, I surprise myself as well. The whole atmosphere in this house wasn't so calm in years, did you notice?"

Kurtis stood up and brushed some creases on his jeans. Then he went to check on the brewery. The satisfied grunt probably meant that the potion was ready and it was time to pay Ian a visit. He took a cup and poured some of the brownish – black liquid in it.

"Yes. I've noticed that too." Kurtis said while passing Lara, who was sitting near the exit. "I've noticed…" just for a second Trent had stopped as he wanted to do something. But then shook his head and went out.

Knock in the door disturbed Ian who was snoozing on the floor near Anthony, who was quietly plating his toys. The door opened and Kurtis Trent walked in, carrying something that immediately made his son sneeze and his brother wake up and cringe in disdain.

"Tony, go to your room. Uncle Ian and I have to talk about something."

"But…"

"Don't worry, you can visit him later, I promise."

Little boy nodded and gathered his stuff, however as he proceeded to the door Ian noticed that one dinosaur was still laying on the floor.

"Hey… You forgot Nico."

"Keep him. I know he is your favourite." answered the pile of toys before the door got closed.

Kurtis helped his brother up and gave him the cup.

"Drink it. Don't worry, this time it won't be so painful. You will just get sleepy. I will look to that Nico will not worry as well." the policeman snorked, trying not to laugh at the face Ian gave him. "And then we will talk, if you do not mind."


	12. The Truth Unfolds

_**Whoah, that took much less time to update. But I feel the responsability. Even if I am not read but the responsability is still there, nagging in the back of my mind, choking me, corroding me...(ahem, ignore the last two words) I quite like this chapter. Probably because revelations and some juicy sick stuff are my favourite stuff in writing. Enjoy, comment and suggest... I give cookies! **_

**The Truth Unfolds**

As usually, potion started to work immediately, wiping away all Ian's brain activity and leaving only the urge to sleep. However the presence of Kurtis Trent near his bed made him struggle for consciousness.

"Listen, can't we do it…other… time…?" yawned Ian and felt like he was falling on thousands of fluffy warm pillows and curling up in them. Shake on the shoulder made him to come back into the reality. Kurtis frowned and muttered something regarding side – effects of the potion.

"We do not have much time, Ian. Informed person is always protected person. Start and try to remember as much as you can. In exchange I will give you any information you'll ask for."

Assassin squeezed eyelids together and cynically curled lip up. The whole situation was plain ridiculous to say the least and right now he is ought to give up the information about his masters to one of his potential victims.

'_Not that you know a lot about them anyway.'_ Squeaked annoying little voice in the back of his mind.

Kurtis was sparkling with tension and interest so Ian crawled up a bit and all of the sudden grabbed a sharp pencil that was laying on the night table near his bed. Before his so – called 'brother' even opened mouth to ask what he was doing, Ian stabbed pencil right into his vein on the left arm and left it sticking from there, while little streams of blood were running down his fingers and staining white blanket.

"Or I will not be able to keep the concentration needed." Simply stated Ian and observed the pencil shaking in his arm from left to right. "It will heal itself in an hour, you know."

Kurtis nodded. He seemingly recognised the 'symptoms', Ian could see it in his eyes. Trent shifted himself in the chair and crossed legs.

"Just tell about yourself and from there pass on your masters. I will draw out the necessary conclusions myself, not to worry about that."

Ian, still hypnotising the pencil, took deep breath and lowered eyelashes a bit.

"Well, I think I told you that I never knew my parents. Since the time I started to understand the world around me, think I was two or three years old, I found myself living in the gloomy underground fortress with a bunch of other kids. Some a bit older, some are almost newborns. And some like me. My questions over own heritage died the same day when one of my Masters explained I was an orphan and then whipped me till you could see the bones. It healed rather quickly though, in a matter of hours but my interest over possible family alive, mothers and fathers, disappeared without a trace and I acknowledged myself of belonging to no – one except my Masters and The Organisation. I say – convenient."

Kurtis bowed forward and furrowed brows.

"You name that 'convenient'? I would name it cruel beyond any standards."

"You may name it in any way you desire but the fact is there: it taught me the first valuable lesson in my life." snapped Ian and pushed pencil even deeper in his vein so only half of it could be seen now. "Don't ask too many unnecessary questions for your own sake."

Trent was still very surprised in the most unpleasant way but closed his mouth and straightened his back.

"What can I say more?" continued Ian while calmly twitching pencil in his arm, making it bleed even heavier. "Days and days of studying. Laughing and games were a taboo. The only entertainment we, kids, had, were daily fights that were not only allowed, but highly encouraged by our superiors. More cruel we were, better it was. I remember injuring one of my best friends one day. Fractures were beyond any repair so the same evening he died." Ian laughed, like he remembered something amusing. "You know, it was really funny. I was seven, he was ten and much taller then me, but then I found that huge metallic bar somewhere in the corner and hit him on the head, several times in the face and when he was already on the ground I pushed the pole inside his abdomen. And then when I understood what I did I started to cry. One of my Masters came to me…"the pencil made its way through the arm and was now sticking from the other side. "He came to me and said I did very well and deserved an encouragement. But then he added that he was really disappointed with my tears. I apologised and my master accepted it, but not before he took the same pole I've been using, still red from Avery's blood and hit me several times on the head. Healing_that_ took a bit longer. "Ian laughed again and watched Kurtis, who, during his story stood up and was walking up and down the room. His face was very pale and clear blue eyes got dark from anger. Ian wondered who he was angry at. At him? Or his Masters? Or both…

"Shall I continue?" he asked simply tracing the patterns Kurtis was walking in.

"Yes." Came the short answer while Trent opened mini – bar and poured some still as a tear liquid in his glass. It could be either Martini or vodka. Martini was a drink for ladies, so Ian put his bet on Russian Traditional. Especially regarding his listener's roots.

"I was never told I was any special. But the talks between me and my friends made me wonder over several things. I always though that my fast healing is nothing of any importance, but sometimes my friends were in Organization's hospital for more then a month while my biggest record was being away for week and a half. And then there was that strange attention for me coming from my Masters and the people they were serving to. It wasn't directly the attention one might think of. Or want to experience, on that matter."

Kurtis didn't interrupt Ian and just softly tapped his glass with fingers. He was thinking about something and a nervous tremble was running down his arms. Ian could only try to guess what was on his mind. Though he could swear that now and then there was a strange vibe he could feel with his skin and that was coming from no – one but Kurtis.

"I was punished for every single mistake I made. Wrong walk, bad stance… It almost seemed as they were shaping me to someone's personal liking."

The blanket was partly soaked in blood but Ian did not seem to be worried about that at all.

"The rest is not that interesting, I assume. I am a killer by nature and profession; you could see me in action. Though I think I could've performed much better if not the illness. Then we would not be talking right now."

Without any hesitation he yanked the pencil out of the arm, making the wound to bleed steadily. Still, not showing any sign of weakness due to excessive blood loss, he tore part of the blanket and put a bandage around the wound. Then, after a second though, Ian tore another stripe of cotton material from the bed sheets and put another bandage on the upper arm, to stop blood circulation for a while. Kurtis was watching the whole process while finishing his glass and pouring the new one. When his brother was done, Trent made his way back to the chair and dropped down.

"Any premature conclusions on my story?"

Kurtis shook head and narrowed eyes.

"Not just yet. You can ask whatever you wish. I will try to give a fair and satisfying reply."

The drowsiness decided not to return, so Ian crawled up on the pillows just an inch more and seemed to ponder for a second.

"Before going on the mission I've always received the paper giving me detailed information about the target. Your case, was, however, quite different."

"Is that so?" Kurtis' eyebrows flew up and he put the glass away on the little tea table near the chair.

"Amusing and intriguing, isn't it? Just a normal G. I. Joe with surprisingly uninteresting life and a hint of paranormal abilities. I found it quite strange and suspicious that a seemingly average person suddenly possesses supernatural powers and my Masters, so it seemed, do not give a damn about it. So tell me, where do those come from?"

"I am the descendant of an ancient and historically important bloodline. My ancestors were with the church and stood on the grounds of Light battling the ever upcoming forces of The Darkness. They all possessed the unnatural powers which I inherited by my birthright. As, actually, did you."

"You still claim to be my brother?" asked Ian just out of interest as Kurtis never fully explained what the marks on Ian's body had to do with their brotherhood.

"You, as I, belong to the long line of Holy warriors. You may wonder how I know that – it is quite easy, really. You have marks on your body: the Templar cross and an arrow piercing a snake. I have the same ones. It so happens, that all the descendants of the bloodline are marked from their birth with a symbol granted to our ancestors by God himself."

Ian pulled unsatisfied face and wiggled with his fingers as his arm was getting a bit numb. It was still early to take bandages off though; the wound didn't have time to fully heal yet.

"You are walking in circles, Trent. Don't you start feeding me that riddle crap. I am not a child and I feel there is more then…"

"You and I both belong to an organisation that once called itself Lux Veritatis. You and I both are more then just humans. But unlike me, dormant Watcher, your inner being woke up at the year of your thirty's birthday. As The Prophecy had foretold." Kurtis was getting more and more anxious. He was marching around the room, waving around with hands and gesturing vividly. "Unlike me, you are an active pure blood Nephilim in all its beauty and with the dangers that come with it. The potions I give you do not cure anything as you are not ill. They postpone your coming into the power, giving me time to figure out the pattern of the events and prevent something terrible to happen."

Ian listened to Kurtis' monologue and couldn't believe what he was hearing. The information was pouring down on him as the shower rain and in the last five minutes the assassin filled many gaps in his life - story which now, he wished, were never uncovered. His Masters really knew. They knew about the Prophecy, they raised him and patiently waited all those thirty years for Ian to become 'ripe.' But why?

Kurtis seemed to read his mind or something as he pressed his lips together and cracked knuckles.

"Lux Veritatis had many enemies. Everything that was dark, unholy and dangerous was battled by the members of the order. But there was always one great enemy that summoned together all the impurity in the world. Our great rival always was The Cabal. We battled them for centuries and in return they systematically hunted down and killed the members of the cult. That's how in the middle of the nineties our father died. And all the other people that had any connections to The Order of Light." Kurtis once again sat down in the chair and suddenly he looked much older and very tired. "Five years ago I though we put end to that nightmare. But from what you told me, Ian, I guess it was never really true. You must trust me when I say – do not think _I_ am your enemy. Your whole Organisation… They are obviously serving the Order of The Darkness. That's why you were ordered to kill me, so I would never have a chance to find out about our family ties and warn you before it is too late."

Ian looked sick and was white as a paper. His little world was in ruins. He served the killers of his father. Served faithfully and without hesitation. All those people he killed during all those years… Could they be related to Lux Veritatis? God, he never really was even an orphan, he got stolen from his family, robbed of, perhaps, more happy life… And why?

"Why… Me?" he squeezed out and cringed together like he was in pain.

"Lara told she saw him dying… But I am not so sure anymore. Joachim Karel was a creature of a vivid and calculative mind. He could have foreseen both sides of the case and could have prepared an escape route. And surely he knew of The Prophecy. Nephilim always sense their own. The matter needs an…"

Kurtis didn't finish his sentence as all of a sudden the house got drowned in the ongoing sound of the security alarm. Ian jumped up and almost fell backwards. Kurtis helped him to keep balance.

"Seems we have guests! Find Tony and hide somewhere together. I think your delegation had just arrived."


End file.
